An Unlikely Friendship
by StephintheTardis
Summary: Sazlek, a Troll Druid from Sen'jin, finds herself wandering Durotar, stumbling upon the least likely creature she would have ever expected: a Night Elf. Rated M for future mature themes
1. Sazlek

I realize that I have posted this story before, but after reading it, I realized I needed to do some heavy rewriting and editing.

Each of the characters is based of a character I have had in WoW.

I do not own WoW or anything affiliated with it.

Rated M for future Mature content

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Sazlek shifted in cat form, stealthily prowling through the shrubs outside her home of Sen'jin Village. She had her eyes set on a rather small boar, just big enough to feed her and her twin, Sorlok. The druid took a step forward, bearing fangs as a growl rumbled deep within her throat, and pounced.

Great paws extending before her, claws extracting themselves as she met the creature with a loud thump. The boar let out a shrill grunt and attempted to bolt off, but the cat was much too strong for it. Her jaws finding themselves around its neck, she it down hard, razor-sharp fangs burying itself into flesh, feeling the warmth of the blood seeping through her mouth, as her fangs broke through veins and arteries, blood rushing out in pulses with each beat of the mammal's heart. Her claws dug into its back, rending the flesh as through it were nothing more than water, staining her bluish paws with shiny crimson. Within a matter of seconds, the boar was felled, blood gushing from the grievous wound on its neck, the tigeress jumping from its back, to survey its death before it. Sazlek saw its eyes widen as she approached its head, blood dripping down her chin, pausing only to lick her paw clean. She eyed the boar with pity; it wasn't the best of lives to live, knowing that since birth, it was only going to die by Sazlek's bloody claws. A weak squeal escaped him, brightness of its eyes fading, when the troll realized it had suffered enough. With one swift movement of her lethal paw, she had ended the boar's life.

Sazlek let out a grunt and threw the corpse over her back, feeling the blood soak into her black-striped, cerulean fur. She began walk through the desert back to her home, half lidded eyes showing clear satisfaction with her kill. She would have to wash up before beginning anything, as she felt her fur become increasingly sticky, but that would be no problem for her; the sea was only a short distance away, and she could easily wash herself up, though she was brought to reality as a hiss from the east interrupted her thoughts.

A scorpid, poison green and raising its barbed tail, watched her dangerously as she passed by, earning a flick of her tail and a low rumble emanate from deep within her, letting loose a terrifying growl as she bared her fangs. It was enough to frighten anyone, even a scorpid, though this one had not backed down. "Ya really don' wanna be doin' that, mon," she told it, though she hardly though it would understand her trollish tongue, colored thick with the accent accustomed to her people. Her crimson eyes sparkled in a threatening glare as she faced it, swishing her once more, nearly forgetting about the decomposing boar on her back. The creature seemed to think about attacking her for a moment, but backed away, realizing she was an opponent far too powerful for it to handle. With a satisfied huff, the tigress continued her journey back home.

It was a two minute run from where she hunted to Sen'jin, and the creatures between the areas wouldn't dare try to attack her. Despite her looks, Sazlek was a terrifying troll, one that not many others dared to cross, and she made it very clear to anyone that crossed her path that she was one to be cautious around. Once, a foolish orcish commander had tried to use trickery to try and bed her, but he had far from succeeded. It had been a late night in Orgrimmar, filled with drinking and laughter, and Sazlek, along with her twin Sorlok, and several of their friends, had been drinking well into the night, heads all blurred in a drunken haze, as an orc decided it would be a fine idea to begin hitting on her. She didn't mind it at first, accepting a drink from the man, but the moment he got handsy, all flirting from her end came to a complete stop, crimson hues glaring at him with such an expression that it made even the bravest men cringe. Everyone knew that it was time to stop, but drunk as he was, he did not heed the warnings, allowing his hand to travel up her inner thigh as she say upon her stoop. Being quite adept at hand to hand combat, it wasn't long until the male was on the floor, nose broken and lip bleeding profusely as she had defended herself. They'd given the bartender extra gold to pay for their trouble, and left without another word.

Sazlek had returned to the village within a matter of minutes, much to her pleasure; the dead boar upon her back was getting quite uncomfortable, and not to mention the stickiness of her fur was getting rather bothersome. She kept her head low as she entered the village; as of late, the trolls hadn't seemed too happy with the young female, the looks in their eyes always greeting her with some form of disapproval. Sazlek was bewildered with their actions; she could think of nothing she did wrong, but the Darkspear trolls seemed to have an odd knack of unusual actions, such as this. However, her thoughts of unease left her mind as she heard footsteps fall in line with her own, in a familiar pattered that she was all-too-familiar with. Soon, her friend's familiar aroma entered her nostrils, deep and musky and rather pleasing, though it had never done anything for her. Turning her head slightly to see Garluz, a troll mage that she had known since birth, picking the dead boar off of her back and slinging it over his own shoulder, she shook, flecking him with small amounts of blood as her fur was soaking wet.

"See you're back," he said. "Dis boar is smaller dan usual."

"You must be comin' to dinner, den," Sazlek replied, still in cat form, walking beside him. "Normally, when you be mentionin' ma catch, you be eatin' as well."

"Naturally. Speaking of eatin'," he said, rubbing his stomach hungrily, shifting the weight of the boar onto both shoulders, "Is Sorlok joinin' us as well?"

"She be in Orgrimmar, doin' some priest trainin' at de moment. Dey short on trainers and dey know dat Sorlok be de best around. She's also gettin' a new mount; Duskrunnah died a few days ago. She should be headed dis was soon, with Vandina and Seliah, too. Dey arrived by zeppelin de other day."

A grin lifted Garluz' lips as Sazlek mentioned their companions. Seliah, the Undead Huntress, had always been a great friend of Sorlok's; the troll had saved the other woman on numerous occasions, earning herself a deep-rooted respect from the Undead. Vandina, on the other hand, had met Sorlok and Sazlek in the deepest parts of a dungeon, fighting through the menaces that inhabited the dark recesses. She was a Blood Elf, and a Paladin at that, a woman that constantly put her life on the line as she drew the enemies near her, giving her allies a chance to attack as they became distracted with her. Stunningly pretty, it was no surprise to Sazlek as she saw the look on Garluz' face at the mention of her name. Having met in a bar that evening, celebrating a victory, the hulking troll had been instantly attracted to her, so of course he would be happy to see her again. She was often off fighting with Sorlok and Seliah, rarely making an appearance in Sen'jin, where Garluz spent most of his time. "Vandina, eh?" He mused, rubbing a finger along the end of his large tusk, jutting out like that of a mammoth. Though he had always been proud of that feature, he couldn't help but to get annoyed every once in a while, as the often got in the way. "Been meaning tah speak with that lil' Elfie for a while now…but still. Hopefully Sorlok be getting here by dusk; dere be a meetin' of the village. Apparently deh elders aren't happy with some of de stuff dat's been happening here.

"Why did I not know of dis? No one be tellin' me about de meetin'."

"You be huntin'," Garluz said, shrugging. He and Sazlek entered the latter's hut, though the female hesitated for a moment, knowing well that she was covered in blood.

"Eh, give me a minute," Sazlek said, returning to her normal form. A woman of average high for her race replaced the enormous cat, bright crimson eyes gleaming beneath her brow. Two tusks, not nearly as big as the male's, curved upward from her lower lip, which was curved in a smile as the male made himself at home, pulling out a skinning knife as he began to work at Sazlek's catch.

"Yeah, yeah, get yerself washed up. Ya stick, Sazzy." Scrunching her features at his statement, the female rolled her eyes, backing out of the hut as she neared the sea right at the edge of her village, searching for a secluded spot to bathe. She knew how some of the men of Sen'jin operated, and she wanted to stay away from prying eyes, knowing well that it would be nearly impossible. Still, she found herself slipping out of her leather armor, allowing the material to slide to her ankles, stepping into the cool pool and submerged herself, holding her breath. She loved the water, feeling it engulf her body, washing away the blood that had covered nearly her entire body. Kicking at the floor of the sea, she reemerged, rubbing the blood off of her arms. Soaked hair became plastered to her pale, blue-green skin, and she brushed it back, getting her dark locks out of her eyes. "Good enough," she muttered, dragging herself out of the waters, covering herself with the shirt and shorts she wore under her armor. It wasn't like her to show up naked, and she knew that it would give many others unwanted ideas.

Reentering her home, she found that the hide had been completely removed from the boar she had just hunted, being dried and stretched outdoors, while Garluz was nowhere to be found. For a mage, he was an exceptional butcher, cutting the meat easily, as if it were second nature to him. Throwing her armor upon her bed, she slid outside once more, her crimson hues searching for the male. He was hanging the carcass up by its hind legs, the blade of his knife resting against the flesh as he began to rend open its belly, spilling the innards. Wrinkling her nose as the stench of its contents reached her nostrils, she reached for a large leather pouch, scooping up the liver and intestines to use later. Digging into the corpse, blood splattered onto his face, while nearly hitting Sazlek, who dodged the oncoming blood just in time.

"C'mon, Garluz, I just washed off…don' need ta be covered in blood again."

He smirked, giving her a playful glance as he continued working, tearing out the boar's heart and tossing it at her. "Looks like ya already got it on yer hands again…what's a little more fer ya?"

Making a noise of disgust as she caught the squishy organ, she threw it into the bag of entrails, staring at her, once-again, blood-soaked hands. Looking for anything to wipe up the mess, the pair of trolls fell silent. Cleaning herself, she could feel Garluz' gaze upon her back, causing a frown to furrow her brows.

"Sazlek." The silence had been broken, though his single utterance was more of a statement than a question.

"Hmm?" The female straightened herself, turning her head slightly to peer at him over her shoulder. "If dis is about what I tink it is…"

"Many of de trolls be speakin' of ya."

"Tell me someting I don' know. Dey been speakin' of me since Sorlok and me could talk."

"Dey be speaking oh ya badly though. Dey be saying tings dat aren't...well, dey aren't you."

Sazlek rolled her eyes. "Does it have to do with dat missing kid? I've heard way dey be sayin'. Dey saw a cat, leaving with de kid, but it wasn't me." She huffed angrily, folding her arms across her chest, brows furrowed as her rage only increased. "Dis is bothering me…more den it should."

"You have de right to be angry. Dey don't know shit. You know who ya are…and dey can't do anyting about dat."

"Still…"

"Sazlek," Garluz said, stepping back from his handiwork, before beginning to cut away at the boar's flank. "Just ignore dem. Dey know not'ing about you. I know de real you."

"Tanks, mon. Tanks a lot."

The sun had fallen and the entirety of the village sat around a giant bonfire, placed at the middle of the settlement. Sazlek and Garluz sat near the head of the group, the former with her arms wrapped around her legs and her chin resting on her knees. Garluz relaxed casually, his staff sitting in his lap. He kept glancing at Sazlek, a somewhat worried expression on his face. She hadn't acted normally since he had given her the news of the elders' thoughts.

Suddenly, from the darkness, Master Gadrin appeared, smoking billowing from whence he came, looking more dark and intimidating than it had been. "Dis council has been called to order by de elders. Certain…events...dat recently passed have caused a bit of…disarray among de villagers. A child, young, tusks not even beginnin' to grow in, was taken from dis village. By a cat of some sort." His face looked rather sad as he glanced in Sazlek's direction. The female sighed, knowing the man's thoughts as her words faded into a temporary silence. It was known that Sazlek was only one of a few druids in the village, her primary focus being shapeshifting, often into the form of a large, striped cat. When news of this had reached her ears, she knew that it couldn't end well for her.

"Ya know dey only be expectin' me."

"It's demanded by da elders dat she leave this place…for more reasons den just this. Ya know da rules of lying with a woman…forbidden." Her eyes widened at his statement; it had never been in her interests to lay with a woman…never. But he was speaking so clearly and pointedly at Sazlek, that she just couldn't believe what she was hearing. Sazlek…with a woman. It was completely unheard of.

"So," continued Master Gadrin. "I undahstand dat dis be hard for you to hear. I not be agreein' wit what dey say, but dey be askin' dat yeh be leavin' de village." He said his words to no one in particular, but Sazlek knew it was aimed for her. Her jaw clenched as she peered into the fire before her, a small sigh escaping her lips. _So be it._

"Dat be it." The final words of Master Gadrin echoed through the gathering, and he retreated backward, disappearing into the night as the crowd too began to disperse. Sazlek stood quickly and headed back to her hut, wrath gnawing at the pit of her stomach. If they didn't want her, then fine. She would leave. She would leave and not return.

Her raptor, Lana, was lying outside of the hut, her feet twitching as she dreamt. Sazlek knelt next to the slumbering beast, prodding her lightly, saying, "C'mon girl. Gotta get up. We be leaving."

Stirring and opening her bright blue eyes, she nuzzled Sazlek, growling affectionately as she stood up, stretching her body. Sazlek patted her muzzle walking back to her hut, grabbing what supplies she needed for her trek. She put on her leather armor, made to fit her form exactly and packed her saddlebags, throwing them over Lana's back. As she rubbed Lana's neck, Sazlek felt a strong hand upon her shoulder.

"You don' need to do dis, mon," Garluz said as Sazlek faced him. "Dey don' know what they're sayin'."

"I have to, Gar. I cannot just defy dere orders. And what good would I be? I'd just be a disgrace."

Garluz could tell that there would be no way he could change his friend's mind. Once Sazlek had her heart set on something, nothing could change it. He looked into her eyes, seeing sadness deep within them, though he said nothing. She was one of his longest and closest friends, and though he would offer to leave with her, he knew she would never accept. Sighing in defeat, his arm reached behind his head, rubbing the back of his neck as his shoulders rolled in a shrug.

"I guess dere be nothing ta change yer mind, Sazzy," he said, a frown tugging at the corner of his lips. "So I guess dis is goodbye…" Offering her a sad smile, he made to leave, but the next second, Sazlek had her arms wrapped around his waist, face buried into his chest. Startled, Garluz put his arms around her, stroking her hair.

"Don' worry, mon," he said. "You be a strong troll. If anyone can get through dis, it be you."

"Tank you, Garluz. I'm gonna miss you, ya know."

"I'm gonna miss ya too, Sazlek. Take care of yerself."

"You too," she replied with a nod, the smallest hint of a smile crossing her lips. "Maybe, one day, I can make it back and see ya again."

Without another word, she dug her heels in the sides of her raptor, and the Druid was off, disappearing into the night.


	2. Guljon

Yay edits~

This story will be much better than it once was.

I do not own WoW or anything affiliated with it.

Excruciatingly hot and dry, Guljon traversed the seemingly endless desert that was Durotar, each step becoming harder and harder to take as she grew wearier and wearier. Her body was not made for such conditions, typically residing in the shaded areas of Darkshore and Ashenvale…much different than the barren wastelands that she now explored. A sigh escaped her lips as she whirled around, catching the sound of some unknown entity rustling about behind her, seeing it to be a lone scorpid, waving its barbed tail menacingly. A dark eyebrow raised as her glowing, silver eyes fell upon the creature, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth, amused by the creature's bravery. Or perhaps it was foolishness, as such a low-level animal would attempt to attack such a highly-ranked priestess. Her hands began to glow, holy magic welling up within her as she loosed the attack at the creature, hitting it directly in the face, dying instantly. She was a healer, but even she had hidden talents for attacking an enemy. Quickly retrieving a small dagger, which she had strapped against her calf, the female slashed at the scorpid's corpse, taking from it what items she could easily sell for a bit of money, before resuming her quest once more.

Of course, how she had gotten into her current predicament was quite beyond Guljon. Once again, she had somehow gotten herself separated from her brigade, a band of Alliance warriors set on inconspicuously exploring the lands of Durotar and the Barrens, gathering information to return to the Alliance leaders, perhaps finding some sort of weakness to use against the Horde. Bringing her map out of her pack, her eyes scanned the nearest villages to her location; to the south was the settlement Sen'jin village, the home of the vicious Darkspear trolls while north was Razor Hill and Orgrimmar, knowing very well that she should stay away from the orcish capital. It was certain death for a lone Night Elf.

How could she have been so foolish? Her company wasn't large, but it was not small enough to lose completely. It must have taken a certain skill for her to manage to slip away, unnoticed, by the rest of the group…especially their company leader, Hullok. A hulking Draenei Paladin, the male had a knack for keeping Guljon by his side, keeping her away from almost anyone. His presence seemed to be almost _smothering _to the female, and she berated herself day after day for allowing herself to be married to him. In the beginning it hadn't been so bad, but the love she once held for him seemed to dwindle away, leaving a dark hole within her heart, and an almost permanent frown marring her features. Of course, the company also had Feldion and Xandria, a Night Elf and Worgen she had grown quite close to. She had grown up with Feldion after her father's untimely death, lived with his mother and father, raised to be a respectable woman and cunning warrior. Xandria had likewise found herself in Darnassaus, a Worgen refuge, training to be a druid. She had never seen the woman's human form, but she was certain that it wouldn't be the same. She was a Worgen, and she should bare the mark proudly.

A breeze blew passed her, catching an unappealing odor of a company of soldiers behind her, knowing all-too-well the smell of an orc. Her stomach dropped, heart leaping into her chest as she noticed that the company was rather large, about 15 to 20 troops, far more than Guljon would ever be able to handle on her own. Silently cursing to herself, she searched wildly for a place to hide, nearly coming up short until she found a big enough boulder to conceal her petite form, hiding behind it in a rush. Hopefully, it would be enough to keep the orcs passing from noticing her, peeking around the edge to watch as they passed. Her heart was pounding at such a pace that it hurt her chest, not diminishing in the slightest as they passed, disappearing after a few minutes. The coast looked clear, but she stayed a minute longer, making sure that there weren't any tagalongs that had managed to fall behind.

A sigh of relief escaped her, stepping out of her hiding spot, continuing her trek across the desert. This was completely ridiculous; she'd even managed to leave her Hearthstone with Feldion, not even keeping it in her possession. At least if she had it, she would be able to teleport back to Auberdine, sending a message to let Hullok know where she was at. But no, her forgetful mind had failed to take it back from Feldion, and now she was in this situation, and a frustrating one at that. She didn't think it would be able to get any worse.

Oh, but it did.

Stabbing pain coursed through her body as she felt a blade pierce her lower back, a strong arm wrapping around her thin waist as an enemy snuck up behind her, a groan escaping her lips. It had been an Orcish rogue, master of stealth and quick movements, that had appeared behind her and dealt the blow, a throaty chuckle escaping her lips. Guljon's knees buckled and she felt herself slide to the ground, falling face-first upon the dirt road, her breathing coming in short gasps as she bled out. The orc rummaged through her pack, searching for any sort of gold she had before flipping her on to her back to get a good look at his victim.

A pair of yellow eyes, deepset in his dark green skin, met shining orbs of silver, lips curving into frown as tears leaked out of her eyes. Dark ebony tresses were tied back into a long braid, and his jaw was covered in a thick beard, broken by three scars that ran from his cheek and down. He spoke in a low, gravelly voice, and the woman was surprised that she was able to understand him. He was on his knees, leaning over her thin body, hand beside her head, supporting his weight as the other drew his blade, resting it upon her chest.

"Shoulda stayed in yer tree, Elf," he said, dark brows furrowing, cool blade pressed against her throat. "Ya woulda been safe there. Here in Durotar is no place for yer kind. Now, yer just gonna bleed out, until the vultures decide to pick at your bones. Heh." She could feel the metal of his knife cut a thin line upon her skin, though as she closed her eyes, holding her breath as she waited for him to deliver the last blow, he drew back, wiping her blood off on his pants, before sheathing the blade.

"It's a shame, Elf," he called, back facing her as he walked away. "Yer a pretty thing. Maybe you'll be lucky enough to get saved…doubtful."

His words echoed in her head as her vision began to fade, tears continuing to spill from beneath her eyelids. It hurt. By Elune, it was some of the worst pain she'd ever felt. She was going to die, she knew it. The wound she'd sustained was deep, sapping away her strength as she lay on the ground, keeping her from using her own healing abilities to save herself.

_Fantastic. Just great. I'm going to die, all alone. All….alone. _Her breathing was labored, and she lacked the air she needed to remain conscious. It wasn't long before her vision flickered and faded to black completely.

"Quit fuckin' attackin' me!" Releasing an attack at a pile of scorpids that came her way, Sazlek was less that amused at their constant need to attack a foe much stronger than them. It was annoying and time consuming, keeping her from reaching Razor Hill. Her hopes were to get there quickly, but with everything that seemed to be attracted to her, it was consuming time that she would rather not waste. Reaching for the staff across her back, she swung it powerfully at a scorpid that had launched itself through the air, pinchers clicking rapidly as it reached for the troll's skin. Meeting it with a loud crack, the woman swung as hard as she could, mauling the scorpid, sending soaring through the air, landing with a pathetic thud a few meters away from where she stood, barely breaking a sweat. This was far too easy for her, and a complete waste of time, a frown curving her lips as she walked back to where her raptor stood, clawing at the road, leaving rends in the dirt from her razor-sharp claws.

"Eh, sorry about dat, Lana," she said, patting the creature's neck as she hummed happily. "Da tings never learn ta leave ya alone. Annoying as hell." Sliding her staff back into place, she grabbed hold of Lana's reigns, walking beside her rather than riding; it was too much work to keep dismounting every time a scorpid attacked, and she knew it annoyed the bright orange raptor as well.

Walking in the heat was dull, and walking without a companion was even more so, leaving Sazlek rather grumpy as her bare feet dragged along, occasionally talking to Lana as they finally made progress. Razor Hill was in sight, lighting a spark of hope in the female. Finally, she'd be able to take a flight to Orgrimmar, offering her assistance to the Druids, knowing well that she'd be more of use there than back in her home. She was fantastic at what she did, and there was no doubt that she would be a great help to their needs.

Except, one thing stood in her way. Rather, lay in her way.

A lifeless lump laid in the middle of the road before her, vultures circling the creature overhead, occasionally swooping down to check if it was alive. Curiosity coursed through Sazlek's mind; the figure was small and slender, likely much shorter than the troll, herself. Her thoughts went immediately to a Blood Elf, approaching it slowly and cautiously, though that couldn't be right. Someone would have come to a Blood Elf's aid, she was certain, but obviously, the woman lying on the ground had not been helped, nor would she, as what she was suddenly made itself known to her. Violet skin and dark navy hair gave Sazlek the notion that she was a Night Elf, one of the fairest Alliance races to exist so far, but she still didn't understand. How could she make it this far into Durotar, and alone, for that matter? Bound to her thigh was a dagger, and she slid it out of her pouch, gripping it tightly in her hand. Her eyes scanning the body of the woman, it was clear she was in agony, her breaths coming out short and raspy, eyes fluttering beneath her eyelids frantically. The Elf was unconscious, and Sazlek could easily end her life right there and then, ridding the world of another horrid member of the opposing faction.

But something about the woman's face preventing her from making the killing blow.

The Elf was scared. She may be unconscious, but the frightened expression that crossed her face was more than enough to tell Sazlek that this woman was terrified. Gripping the dagger tightly, already berating herself for what she was about to do, she sheathed the weapon, falling to her knees beside the bleeding woman. Scooping up her small form into her arms and placing the woman on Lana's saddle, she quickly led the raptor away, sharp eyes open for any of her Faction that might see her with the enemy. If the Warchief ever found out, this would be goodbye to her life, but for some reason, she didn't particularly care. If she'd been in the Elf's situation, she'd hope that the same thing would happen to her, however unlikely it would be.

"C'mon, Elfie," she whispered, keeping the woman balanced on the raptor's back. "You'll be alright."


	3. Meeting the Enemy

Chapter Three, and a new character is introduced that was not in my previous story: Argoz the Orc Rogue.

I do not own WoW or anything affiliated to it.

Rated M for Mature Themes

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Suddenly driven into consciousness as ice cold water was splashed onto her face, Guljon bolted upright, regretting her decision almost immediately. Pain coursed through her torso, starting from the wound on her back, which had been masterfully healed, though the entrance to the injury was healed up. Silver eyes searching wildly around for the source of the healer, who she found was the last person she ever expected to see. She would have thought that it would have been her company that had finally found her, but know. It was far from that…

"T-troll…" Guljon murmured, as her silver eyes met the other woman's. Sharp, clever eyes of crimson, watching her every movement, on her toes should the priestess attempt to attack. She was balanced on her feet, rear resting on her ankles and knees bent, a staff laying across her thighs as her eyes stayed upon Guljon's form. The expression on the troll's face was not of anger or disgust, but rather of confusion and the slightest hint of worry, no doubt because she had saved one of the Alliance.

"Yes, Elfie. I be a troll. Lucky for ya, I be a one dat's not so inclined to kill, even someone from de Alliance," the troll said darkly, leaning against the boulder they were hidden behind. Guljon eyed her cautiously.

Like all trolls, this female had the green-blue skin, covered in a thin layer of soft fur. Three fingers upon each hand, one of which was curled around her staff, tapped against her thigh in a steady rhythm. Her navy hair was worn down, straight and flowing down to the middle of her back, bangs long enough to be pushed over to the side and behind her long, elf-like ears. Her eyes were bright red, and they bore a sadness that Guljon had never seen in one of her kind. Between her eyes was her nose, averaged sized for her kind and humped across the bridge, and her mouth was gently curved into a slight grin as she watched the Elf's bewildered expression, clearly confused as to why an enemy would help her. Two tusks, rather large for a female, extended from her lower jaw, curving upwards over her upper lip. There were several piercings along her pointy ears, and one on her eyebrow.

The troll rose to her feet, standing well over Guljon's height, peeking around the boulder they were hidden behind. Her crimson eyes glanced around the area, checking once again to make sure they were relatively alone. Guljon watched with interest, noting the woman's careful movements and how different they were from her own. She supposed that was a race quirk; the troll was much taller than herself, as were the entirety of the race, and they had to adjust accordingly. Returning, suspicion still upon her features, her eyes met Guljon's, raising a brow at the expression on the Night Elf's face.

"Elfie, yeh be done at lookin' me? I don' really like deh way you be starin'."

"Sorry," Guljon replied, blushing a deep purple. She had allowed her eyes to wander over the troll's form, taking in her figure, the way she moved, the way her muscles were built. She was attractive, to say the least, and Guljon couldn't help to notice that. Her husband had always made them out to me cruel, ugly creatures, and she had never been close enough to one to look for herself. But this one, she was different. "Sorry…I just couldn't help it."

"What'd ya mean?"

"You're so…I don't know…beautiful."

"Very funny, Elfie. Ya don't need ta be messin' with me any. Yer lucky that yer even alive."

"I'm not," she replied, furrowing her brows. "I mean it." The troll's expression was less than amused, clearly not believing a word the Elf said. She knew the Alliance had a terrible reputation of picking on prisoners that they took in, and despite the kind features on the Night Elf before her, she couldn't help but to be a bit skeptical.

"Is dat so? Because everyone I've crossed have always been dat way ta me. Yer kind don't like anyting dats ugly." A frown marring her features, she searched through her pack for her reserve of food, her stomach rumbling lightly. "Eat someting. Ya must be starved. Found ya half dead on mah way to Razor Hill." Finding what she was looking for, she threw a bag of dried boar meat at the elf, along with her water skin. "Eat up. We need to find better shelter fo' when night falls."

Guljon eyed the jerky with distaste. Night Elves didn't normally eat meat of any sort, and being given a bag of boar jerky to gnaw on wasn't exactly her idea of a good meal. "Not all Night Elves think like that, you know," she said, picking at the meat with slender fingers. "Not all of us are stuck-up, as you obviously believed. If you met Feldion, you'd learn that he's quite the opposite of what you've been told."

"Yeah, right," she replied with a growl, tearing off a chunk between her teeth, feeding her hungry stomach. "Maybe he's just interested enough ta put me behind bars ta poke and prod. Figure out how I work. Dat's not gonna happen, mon. Sorry." Pausing for a moment, she gazed at Guljon, raising a brow in question. "Someting wrong, Elfie?"

"Oh, shut up. You have no idea what he's like….ah, do you have something different? Like, eh, fruit or something? Not the biggest fan of dried meat…I usually bring some variety of dried fruit, but of course, I left it with my party." Her sliver eyes looked down at the meat in her hands, nose wrinkling with distaste.

"Naw, mon," Sazlek replied, ignoring her statement about the Night Elf she spoke of. "Dried meat be de best way to go when travelin'. Dis troll ain't too fond of fruit, especially de dried kind. So eat up, or ya can starve, unless ya wanna go out and hunt for someting."

"I'll pass on hunting," she replied dully, face falling into a look of disinterest. "I don't even know that this wound is completely healed, and I don't want to take the risk of getting stabbed in the back with by another orc." Taking a bit between her teeth, she ripped a chunk off, chewing the meat slowly, savoring the flavor. It wasn't too terrible, but she simply didn't care for it.

Silence ensued between the two women, each eating their own meat silently, a fire crackling in between them. Though it wasn't quite night yet, dusk was just falling, and Sazlek would rather have a fire blazing for warmth than freeze her ass off. Despite the heat of the daytime, the deserts of Durotar were frigid at night, always an uncomfortable experience for an outsider. Every now and again, Sazlek would glance at the Elf, noticing her movements and mannerisms, quite polite in what she did, despite the company she held. Her robes were of a thin material, not well suited for the nighttime atmosphere of the land. After several minutes, she decided to break the silence, watching as the sun fell over the horizon, twinkling stars beginning to show themselves in the navy sky.

"Why you in Durotar, Elfie? And all alone for dat matter?"

Silver eyes glanced up from her meal, brows furrowing at the troll's question. "Honestly, I didn't even mean to make it this far into Durotar. I went to scout ahead, foolishly leaving my Hearthstone behind…and got separated from my company. It was completely unintentional, let me tell you."

"Can't say dat's ever happened to me," she replied thoughtfully. "I always have a map on me…don't you?"

"Yeah…the same place where my Hearthstone is at."

"Heh, not da best place for dat either, Elfie. Ya best be careful in dese parts, ya know. Dere's orcs hidin' around every corner, just waiting fer ya, ta jump ya, steal ya money. Maybe even rape ya. Just like dat orc dat ya met earlier. I'm still baffled dat he didn't kill ya den and dere. Anyone woulda done it."

"Then why didn't you?" Guljon asked quietly, meeting hues of crimson. Since awakening, it had been the only thought on her mind. Horde and Alliance were mortal enemies; any one that crossed the other typically killed the other on sight. Yet this troll woman had done quite the opposite, saving her life instead. As much as she wasn't happy about it, Guljon owed this woman her life, and she would make sure the debt would be paid. Not to mention, the orc who had inflicted the wound could have done the same, but no, neither did he.

"I…don' know, to tell ya da truth. Sometine about ya just stopped me. Ya were scared. Alone. No one should die like dat. Not even da enemy." She paused for a moment, placing her leftover meat back in her pack, losing her appetite suddenly, a frown marring her features. "Ya be lucky dat I'm a druid. My specialty may not be healing, but I'm adept enough ta heal most of da wound." She shrugged, averting her gaze to the north, catching sight of something unusual, suspicious even. She quickly returned her gaze to the Elf, keeping her expression calm and unchanging; it would be no use in worrying the Elf about something that might not even matter.

"So you're a feral druid, then? You'd rather change into an animal that use magic to attack, right?"

"Pretty much," she answered with a shrug. "Comes in handy, sometimes. And you. Ya be a priest? I recognize da weapon ya carry. My sister has a similar one."

"You would be correct." She paused, rubbing her back in the area of her wound; it had started to itch, and as much as she'd like to scratch it, she had to prevent herself from doing so. No use in irritating it even more. "What's your name, by the way? It'd be nice to know the name of my rescuer, even if you are a troll."

Quirking an eyebrow, smirk lifting her lips, the troll chuckled, shaking her head slightly. "If ya really want ta know, ma name's Sazlek.

"Sazlek…" Guljon repeated with a nod. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, and I thank you for risking your life to save me. My name is Guljon." She paused for a moment, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly. "I know you've saved me and all, but is I need to ask you another favor…Could you possibly-"

"Lead ya back to yer people. Eh, I suppose I could. This'll be pretty dangerous fer me, ya know. Can't imagine yer Alliance friends will take ta a troll too lightly. But I'll do it. Don't have nothin' else ta do, and it could be a bit exciting." She paused, rising to her feet, throwing a light blanket over to the healing woman. "Now get some sleep, Elfie. It'll be a long journey, and ya need yer strength."

"What about you, Sazlek? Shouldn't you be getting some sleep as well? You're bound to need some rest."

"Heh, yer pretty amusin', Elfie. But trust me; trolls are far more resilient den you Night Elves. We can survive with less sleep and food den you can. And yer especially fragile, as ya heal up. Now get some sleep, or I'll force ya to. Got it?"

She opened her mouth to make a retort, but Guljon knew the troll was right. "Fine, fine," she said grumpily, curling down onto the mat she had been sitting on. Wrapping herself up in the blanket she had been given, her back faced Sazlek as a frown curved her lips, marveling at the luck she had been given. She should be dead, killed by the troll…really, killed by the orc before that. But somehow she'd managed to survive both encounters, the previous even helping her return home. She sighed, shutting her eyes. This would prove to be an interesting journey, that was for sure.

Sazlek watched over her as she fell asleep, waiting until she could see the Elf's chest rise and fall softly, indicating that she was very much unconscious. It took no longer than fifteen minutes, and the moment she had been assured, she led her raptor to where Guljon slept, rubbing her faithful mount's muzzle gently, cooing at her.

"Stay here and watch Guljon, will ya?" she asked softly, touching her nose to Lana's. "She needs protectin', and I need to check someting out." Growling at her master, the bright orange raptor took her spot next to the slumbering Elf, laying down and keeping a vigilant watch over the vicinity as Sazlek gripped her staff tightly in her hands, venturing north, in the direction of the odd figure she had seen earlier.

Slight trepidation settled in the pit of Sazlek's stomach as her crimson gaze watched, ever vigilant at the desert around her. It had gotten significantly cooler, and the warmth of the fire was no longer there to keep her comfortable. But that was the least of her concerns. Something was amiss; an unseen entity, whether benign or malicious, she did not know, was nearby, threatening the lives of she and Guljon. Her eyes bore into the night time desert, searching for the source of her discomfort. As nothing came into sight, she thought that perhaps she was just overthinking the situation, quietly returning back to the makeshift camp that she had established, seeing that Guljon was still peacefully asleep under her fur blankets. She lowered her weapon from its ready point, slinging it across her back…all too soon.

Suddenly, a strong arm appeared out of nowhere, fingers wrapping around her neck as she found herself being pushed into the boulder that she had been camping behind, completely stunning her. Her hands grabbing at the one wrapped around her throat, she found the stranger's free hand prying hers away, able to lock fingers around both her wrists.

"Damn you," she spat, wriggling in place, making no progress in getting free. She eyed the stranger, a man, as tall as she was, though quite a bit broader than herself. A hood covered his features, though she could see his green chin poking out, covered in a layer of black whiskers. "Let go of me, if ya know what be best fer ya."

"You damned fool," a gruff voice responded, shaking the woman with each word. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Aiding that Elf could get you killed!" Sazlek's eyes widened as she recognized the voice of the male before her, lips parted in a silent gasp.

"Argoz….what you be doin' here, mon? Let go of me!" At her wish, the orc released her, removing his hood to reveal his features to her in the minimal light. He looked the same, as ever, the same three scars running along the right side of his face, caused by a rogue raptor that had gotten the better of him when he was younger. The man had always been a good friend of Sazlek's, though they weren't able to see each other very often. The Orcish Rogue was always about, visiting the Eastern Kingdoms and Northend, but somehow, he had found his way back to Durotar, for reasons she was quite curious about.

"Well, I _was _going to pay you and Sorlok a visit, but it looks like those plans have changed, seeing as you decided it was a good idea to aid an _enemy_," he hissed, rolling yellow eyes. "What are you thinking? How can this be a good idea? She should be dead anyway!"

"Ah, so it was you dat stabbed her. I thought da wound looked familiar, and now I guess I know. And what about you? You coulda killed her too, but ya went ahead and left her for dead. She was scared and alone. How could I just leave her ta die, mon?!"

"I swear to god, Sazlek, you've got to be the biggest idiot I've ever met. Couldn't you have just been a normal troll and finished her off? You had to go and be a hero to a faction that doesn't even care that you exist. They'd kill ya if they had the chance!" Though he was rather heated, he kept his voice hushed, not wanting to wake Guljon up. Glancing at her, an exasperated expression upon his features, he sighed, shaking his head heavily. "Damn it, Sazlek. What are you going to do with her?"

"I'm taking her back, mon," she replied, gaze meeting his. "Back ta her people. I saved her life…she owes me dat much. So she can prevent dem from killin' me, if it comes to dat." Folding her arms across her chest as a dumbfounded look replaced exasperation, he shook his head, snorting loudly.

"Fine then, if that's what you want," he said, quirking an eyebrow. "But if you think I'm gonna let you get killed, you've got another thing coming, lady. I could go to the Warchief about this, y'know. But I'm feeling kinder than that, tonight."

"I can hardly believe it, mon," she replied, her hands falling to her hips. "Da last time ya were nice ta me was before I came of age, when we was young."

"Yeah, and that's the most I really got to see of you, as well," he replied. "But, hear my out now. I'm coming with you; if news of your death because of your stupidity found its way to Sorlok, and she knew that I could have stopped you, she'd have my head on a pike. So I'm coming with."

Sazlek was less than pleased with the arrangement, but she knew how stubborn Argoz could be, and that once his mind was made, there was no changing it. It must have been an orc trait, because she'd seen it many times before.

"Heh, fine," she grumbled, rolling her eyes. "Just don't expect to be sharin' my raptor with ya. And if ya slow us down, I'm not waiting for ya."

"Agreed," he responded with a curt nod. "And don't worry, I'm not going to harm your precious Elf. I'm just making sure you don't get yourself unnecessarily killed."

"I can handle myself just fine, tanks," she replied angrily, features scrunching up unhappily.

"Trust me, when the time comes, you'll be thankful you let me join you. Elfie there, might not be, but you sure as hell will."

"Yeah, yeah, just get back to da camp. And fer god's sake, don't wake her up. She's still healing from dat nasty cut ya gave her. Ya just had ta stab her, didn't ya?" They walked back together, quietly padding across the desert floor, keeping an eye out for any more unwanted guests.

"Oh, I'll stab her in more ways than one, if you know what I mean."

Sazlek didn't even bother to respond; rather, she balled her hand into a fist, punching the man beside her, rolling her eyes at his immaturity.

This would be a long trip.


	4. The Journey Begins

Rated M for Mature

I'm really liking Guljon and Argoz' chemistry so far. I'm having too much fun with it.

I own nothing affliated with WoW

* * *

Curled up in her blanket, Guljon was dead to the world, despite the noisy atmosphere around her. Sazlek and Argoz had been bickering all morning, trying to figure out the best way to transport the Elf without being caught by the rest of the Horde. Durotar was swarming with orcs, trolls, and the like; people that the small company did not need to meet. In an angered huff, Sazlek left Argoz and the slumbering elf in a hurry, retrieving her staff in order to blow off some steam on by-standing scorpids. They'd done nothing to her as of late, but who was to say that they would not try to sneak up on their rather small, and completely unexpected, party? She wasn't about to take any chances, and a bit of exercise was bound to do the druid some good.

In the meantime, Argoz found himself alone with the elf, a deep frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. He hadn't even wanted to join Sazlek in the first place; really, the only reason he had shown up was to warn her about the consequences she might soon be facing. However, it seemed like a good idea to offer his assistance to the small group. He was well aware that Sazlek was a great warrior, but with the weakened elf at her side, she was bound to be slowed down. Even now, they sat and waited for the coast to be clear to move on, because of the violet-skinned woman, not that he was complaining. He had always had a fondness for an Elvish woman's soft features, much different than those of his own race. Yellow eyes venturing over to where the elf continued to slumber, his brows furrowed, knowing very well not to even think about her. Though it was his training that told him to kill any enemy that crossed his path, he couldn't help but feel a bit guilty at what he'd done. After what Sazlek had said, he understood why she'd saved the woman. No one should have to die alone.

After a few moments, the woman stirred, eyelids fluttering as Guljon awakened, letting loose a rather lengthy yawn at her uncomfortable sleep. At least with Hullok and Feldion, she had some sort of mat she could use to cushion herself from the hard ground. Here, it was just she and the hard floor, with the addition of the few animal furs that Sazlek had given her, making her rest the slightest bit more comfortable. It wasn't much, but it would have to do for the time being. Really, if it had not been for the troll, Guljon would be long dead by now.

Slowly sitting up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Guljon blinked her shining, silvery hues, glancing around for any sign of Sazlek, though she found no trace of her. Instead, her eyes met the yellow orbs of a certain orc that she had not been expecting to see for a very long time, if not ever. Grimacing, her brows furrowed into a dangerous 'V' shape, hands glowing with a holy magic. Who was to say this man wouldn't attempt to hurt her again?

"The hell do you want?" she asked, her voice no more than a low growl. "Here to finish the job you failed earlier? What kind of orc can't kill a Night Elf? Pathetic."

Her voice, soft and soothing, though filled with malice, washed over the male, reaching his ears, causing his eyebrow to twitch in annoyance. "You should be happy that I didn't end your life right then and there, Elf," he said coolly, lifting his lip in a sort of growl. "You're damn lucky that Sazlek has more of a heart than the rest of the Horde…else you'd be rotting on the road right now." A dark chuckle rumbled his chest, passing through his lips as he met her gaze with a reserved expression. He was rather adept at hiding his emotions, despite the anger at her words that he felt. They had stung at his pride; any orc would have finished her without a second thought, but not Argoz. He did not kill her. And should he go back and relive the moment, he was certain that he would still avoid doing so.

"Must be nice, knowing that your brethren are more of an orc than you are. Don't you kill for the pleasure of it? What kind of weakling lets a weak female as myself go? Obviously you, dog." As well as he could hide his emotions, hiding his anger was not one of his stronger points.

"Shut the fuck up, Elf," he snarled, fist tightening around the dagger he had strapped to his leg. "Unlike your Alliance beliefs, we're not all monsters. Maybe I just wanted to give you a second chance at life. Which you obviously got. So don't even speak of things you don't know. You have a lot to learn about the Horde, Elf." Leaning backward, he felt his heart racing as his blood boiled, closing his eyes to keep his temper from snapping, spurning him to actually kill the woman before him. If Sazlek had not been around, it would have been a very tempting idea, but with the troll lurking about, he wouldn't dare.

"Fine," she sneered, folding slender arms over her ample chest, looking away, focusing her eyes upon a scorpid several meters away. Beyond it, she could see Sazlek's figure swinging at several that attacked her at once, sighing as she realized that the orc was here by her invitation. Her displeasure was quite clear, but she supposed if he was there to help, then he would not harm her. At least not yet. Who was to say he wouldn't the moment she was back with her allies? Either way, her lips turned into a deep frown, stretching her legs before returning her sights to the orc.

"I suppose, if we're going to be stuck with each other for a while, it wouldn't hurt to know the name of my would-be killer." Silvery orbs rested upon hues of yellow, awaiting an answer. She was not feeling the need to do any arguing, so if he refused her his name, she would merely roll back up in her animal skins until the troll returned to them.

"Argoz," he grunted, unsheathing a dagger, using a cloth to wipe the smudges off the cool metal. "Argoz Grimfist. First of my name. First rogue in my family. Heh, not that you give a damn."

"You're right, Grimfist. I don't give a damn about whether you're the first or last of your name. I wanted something other than 'orc' to be able to call you."

"Well, then, Elfie. Time for you to return the favor. Tell me your name, before I force it out of you." She raised her eyebrows, leaning forward in a challenging manner, a dark smirk lifting her lips.

"Oh, I'd like to see you _try,_" she said, added emphasis on the last word. A dark chortle escaped him, likewise leaning forward, chest puffing out as he returned the challenging pose. A little Night Elf would not scare a fully grown orc, especially one of his stature.

"Don't tempt me, _girl_," he replied, a dark glimmer in his yellow eyes. "I'd _gladly_ do it." His lips lifted into a smirk at the darkened violet skin as she blushed, though she did not bat an eye. Had her skin not darkened, he would not have been able to tell that his words flustered her. "I'm going to ask you again, Elfie. What's your name?"

Huffing angrily, finally averting her gaze from his smug expression, the Elf answered his question. "Guljon Nightbeam. And that's all you need to know about me, Grimfist."

"For now," he mused, leaning back as he folded massive arms across his broad chest, quirking a brow at her posture. She faced away from him, hunched over in a protective manner, obviously worried that he might attack her again. It was amusing, to say the least. If he really wanted to, he could take her then and there, but he was nowhere near the mood to attack her, not to mention that he'd done her enough damage already.

"Damn, woman," he said, rolling his eyes, earning a glare from the Night Elf. "I'm not going to hurt you, so relax. You're stressing me out, and I'm the one that's in my own territory."

"No," she replied coolly, crossing her arms as well. "I'll keep you as stressed as I want. With Sazlek around, you wouldn't dare lay a finger on me. So stress away~!" His features deepened into a frown as he looked her in the eye, stern expression crossing his features.

"You don't want to know how I deal with my stress, Guljon," he said, raising his brows. "I know for a fact that you wouldn't be too pleased with what I'd do." Smirking, waggling an eyebrow in satisfaction as an expression of utmost surprise and embarrassment crossed her features once again, blushed darkening her fair, violet skin.

"You pervert," she mumbled, throwing the animal skin over her head, turning her back on the amused orc. "Just wait until Sazlek gets back…"

"Or what? She's gonna smack my hand for being dirty? Sweetheart, you don't get out much, do ya? The world's full of pervs, both Horde and Alliance. There's no way to get away from them, so you'd better get used to it. Especially if you plan on traveling with an orc and a troll. Be thankful that Saz is female…males are a lot worse that she is. But in all seriousness, do you live under a rock or somethin'?"

"Doesn't matter, Grimfist" she murmured, glancing at him with a furious expression. "It's my life, and it's not about to change."

"Looks like it's pretty much changed right about now, don't you think?"

"Yeah, well when I get home…or at least back to my husband, things will be back to normal. No perverted men like you to worry about." At the mention of her husband, he cocked a brow in question, chuckling lightly.

"You've got a husband? It's been years since I've seen anyone married around Orgrimmar. It's just not a custom here. Ya don't know if your significant other is even gonna work out, so why even bother with a marriage? It's just a mess to get out of."

"Night Elves practice marriage," she rebutted, turning to fully face him. "Though I'm not so sure it was a good idea to begin with…" Without thinking, she spoke of a subject that she wouldn't dare speak of in Darnassus. If word of her thoughts reached her husband…she didn't want to think about it.

"Ah, so the truth comes out." Shining eyes peered at her with interest, hanging onto her words. "Whaddya mean by that, Guljon? Not so _happy _in your little _marriage,_ I take it. What a shame. See, if you didn't even bother with that silly little tradition, you wouldn't be in this situation, would ya?"

"Shut up!" she growled, fists balling up, shooting the man a deadly glare. "You have no idea what goes on in my life, and I'd appreciate it if you stopped with trying to find out!"

Shrugging nonchalantly, the male reclined backward, resting his arms behind his head as he gazed at the sky. "Not trying to find out anything, Guljon," he said with a sly grin. "Just poking you enough to see how much you're willing to tell me, and so far, I've gathered that you're married, though not happily so. I'm sure I could press a bit more, if you really wanted me to…I wouldn't mind in the slightest."

Anger caused her features to flush as Guljon rose to her feet, fists balled up at her sides as she approached the man, retrieving her staff from where it lay. This orc was rather annoying, and she didn't know whether she'd stay in the party longer, or leave to find her way back on her own. She knew the latter was highly unlikely; if anything, she'd end up getting even more lost than before, finding herself it an even more terrible situation. Sazlek and Grimfist were willing to help her…the rest of the Horde was not.

"What are you planning to do with that staff of yours, Elfie?" Argoz asked, not bothering to bat an eye as she jabbed him in the center of the chest angrily, lifting her lip in a snarl. "If you think you're gonna bludgeon me to death, you probably should rethink that strategy. I can already tell you…" He paused, allowing himself to rise to his feet, towering over the slender female as her staff remained firmly in place. He leaned forward, his own gruff features merely centimeters away from her delicate face.

"It ain't gonna work on me." Massive hand wrapping around the top of her staff, he tugged lightly, easily pulling it from her grasp and tossing it aside. It was too easy, he thought, amused by the horrified expression upon her face. She may have been a priest, but she was simply a healer, not a class that was known for their attack abilities. "You best be trusting me, Guljon," he said gently, though his expression remained stern as ever. "You don't really have much of a choice. So it'd be much better if we were friends, rather than foes."

"As if that would ever happen," she spat, jabbing a slender digit into his chest. "I'd die before I would trust a man that stabbed me in the back already. You'd probably do it again if you had the chance." With each syllable, she poked him again and again, earning her an unamused expression. Before she could jab him again, he caught her hand in his massive fist, jerking lightly, causing her to stumble forward, before they were face-to-face.

"Stop. Poking. Me." he growled. "Didn't you ever learn to not judge a book by its cover? If not, I suggest you learn, and learn soon. Otherwise I'll-"

"What have we here?"

Unknown to the Elf and orc, Sazlek had returned, several scorpid stings clutched in her fist. "Had I known ya'd be gettin' along so well, I woulda stayed out dere a bit longer." Her lips lifted into a smirk as she saw Guljon's features darken into a blush, averting her gaze as she tugged her arm away from Argoz, whose arms once again were folded across his chest.

"So what was going on dere, Argoz?" Sazlek asked, crimson orbs watching Guljon as she pulled on her boots, preparing herself for the trip home. She seemed to be a flustered mess at the moment, no doubt because of the orc standing next to her. Gaze wandering back to Argoz, she raised an eyebrow, awaiting his answer.

"Just talking," he replied, keeping his gaze fixed to some unknown spot in the distance. "I don't think she likes me very much."

"I expected as much," she replied, rolling her eyes. "I don't be expectin' ya to be friends wit' her, but just try and get along wit' her." A grunt rumbled in his throat, still avoiding the troll woman's gaze. "Ignore me all you want, but we got to get goin'. From what I saw, dere be no one around dese parts. Get yer worg and we can be goin'." Leaving the man behind to gather her belongings, Sazlek cautiously approached the elf, whose expression had not changed from what it had been previously. She too was gathering her things, shoving them into a pack in a rush, quickly folding up the animal skin she had borrowed for the night. Upon Sazlek's approach, she turned, her expression softening minimally, holding up the blanket for the druid to take.

"Ah, sorry about Argoz," she said, rubbing the back of her head sheepishly. "He be a bit…different. He be meanin' no harm by it." She knew her words would have no effect on Guljon, but she kneeled beside her, either way, taking her pack into her hands. "We need to be goin', now. Deh coast be clear and we can start heading west. Take dah raptor. I'll fly."

Rising to her feet, brushing dark locks out of her eyes, she faced the troll, following her to Lana, who stood, clawing at the ground a few meters away. "You know, you don't have to do this. I can find my way."

"Yeah, but dis territory not be da best for ya to travel through alone. Dats why Argoz and I be here. We'll get ya home, safe and sound."

A small smile crossed the Night Elf's lips as she mounted the raptor, shaking her head lightly. "I do appreciate it, Sazlek," she said softly, gripping her reigns in both her slender hands. "Though, that _man _might end up sending me over the deep end, before long. He's quite the _charmer._" She didn't seem amused in the slightest, though a hint of a grin upon her lips gave her away.

"Well, da sooner we get ya back, de sooner ya get away from him. So let's get goin'." Not a moment later, Sazlek had shifted into a bat, flapping her great, leathery wings to keep her afloat. "C'mon, mon," she called over her shoulder, looking at the grumpy orc, who currently was mounted upon his worg. As ready as he was for the journey to be over with, he couldn't help but to feel a bit of excitement as they took their first steps toward Ashenvale, to where they could drop the woman off without getting into trouble.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," he grumbled, running a hand through his ebony locks, rolling great, yellow eyes. This would be quite the journey to remember.


	5. Hullok and Feldion

Rated M for Mature Content

* * *

"You'd got to be fucking kidding me. She couldn't have just disappeared! Feldion, what the hell were you doing?! You should have been looking after her!" Heavy, ebony hooves stomped as the Draenei paced in anger, eyes flashing at each individual in his company. Though he always took full responsibility for Guljon's foolish actions, Hullok Stormhoof was not a man of patience, and often found himself lacking any of it with his own wife. She was air-headed and absentminded, getting herself lost within a matter of moments of being on her own. He couldn't figure out why she was as she was, but he was wearing thin. He would have many words to speak to his wife whenever he found her. _If_ he found her.

Polishing the darkened wood of his longbow, testing the string to make sure it was nice and tight, Feldion's brow's furrowed, silvery eyes glancing at the Draenei as he passed. The hunter was hardly worried about his adoptive sister; it was true that she found herself getting lost more frequently than the norm, but she was always able to find her way back. Taking a drink from his wine skin, his tongue trailed along his mouth as he licked his lips, setting his bow aside.

"You need to calm down, man," he said nonchalantly, scratching the ears of his pet nightsaber. She stretched with a flick of her tail, bearing her fangs in a deep yawn as Feldion's silvery orbs traveled to Hullok's pacing form. "She's made her way back to us before, so who's to say that she won't again. She's a smart girl; you of all people should know this." However, as Feldion spoke, his brows furrowed, knowing well that Hullok's thoughts about his own wife were not the same as his. The Night Elf had grown up with her, her father dying when she was a very young age. They'd played together, learned together, trained to join the Alliance troops together. He was fairly certain that he knew Guljon better than Hullok would ever know her.

Sinking his fist into the trunk of a young sapling, Hullok's anger had not subsided in the least. A grunt of disapproval escaped the hunter, who'd risen to his feet, approaching the man cautiously. The Draenei had been known to lash out irrationally at anyone who tried to approach him in his rage, and Feldion was one of the few that was brave enough to withstand his power. From behind a cluster of trees appeared a Worgen woman, a frown tugging at the corners of her mouth as the commotion had reached her worg-like ears.

"What's going on here, mate?" she asked, gruff voiced layered with her thick, Gilnean accent. "The rest of the camp can here you throwing a tantrum over your wife. Calm the hell down; they're getting uneasy." Clawed hand reaching up to brush her tangled mess of hair out of her eyes, she leaned against a towering oak, exasperation spread across worgish features.

"Fuck off, Xandria," Hullok growled, shooting her a glare. "No one asked for your goddamn opinion." She snorted it amusement, rolling her eyes at his rude behavior, unfazed by his response. She was used to his less-than-attractive ways of speaking to her; despite his affiliation with their faction, and the fact that he'd so openly accepted her into their small company, he had never treated her with the full respect that he had the others. Perhaps it was her worg appearance that turned him away, but she was less that amused with the way she was treated.

"I will not fuck off," she replied coolly, seeing Feldion rise out of the corner of her eye. "You don't need to be losing your temper over this. Sure, Guljon disappeared, but that doesn't mean she's not out there, looking for us. I know she'll be able to find us. So have some faith like Feldion and I. Or do you not believe in your own wife?"

His features, contorted in rage, were suddenly merely centimeters away from hers, and Xandria felt his hot breath upon her face. He was a good head and shoulders taller than her, and though it would have frightened anyone else, she did not move. The woman knew he couldn't do anything to her, else he wished to suffer the wrath of his own commander. He was very aware of this fact, and though physically, he could do nothing, but mentally, he would crush her.

"I've had enough of your bullshit, worg-whore. Had your dumb asses not been attacked by the Worgen, there's no way I would have allowed your bitch ass in this company." Though her features made no sign of her anger, the words he spoke stung. A growl emanated deep within her chest as the man backed away, a smirk crossing his lips, knowing that he had hurt her. He took great pride in his ability to make someone feel insignificant, especially the Worgen. They had no place in his Alliance, an ugly and disfigured race, filled with savage and unruly emotions, bound to snap at any given moment. Sure, he had accepted her when she offered to join, but had his superiors not been there, there would have been no way he would have allowed the vermin scum into his camp.

"You know, I really don't give a damn about what you think. I just think that you need to have a little more faith in the woman you love. Hell, if I was married to anyone, I would put all my faith in them. You just have no faith." Huffing lightly, Xandria turned away from the man, stalking off to return to the rest of the camp. They didn't have it like she did, especially since the others were Draenei, his own kind. Of course he would treat them a bit better than he would treat her, but she knew it was something she just had to get used to.

"Was that _really_ necessary, Hullok?" Feldion asked, raising an emerald brow. The Draenei's words had never been the kindest to Xandria, but it was not something he was able to change within the Paladin, no matter what words he would say. "She could choose to use her human form if she wanted to…she just doesn't. She's proud of who she is. You shouldn't make her feel like she's not."

"It's none of your damn business, Feldion," he said, his voice still gruff, though the anger had subsided significantly. "We just need to focus on finding Guljon. Last I knew, she was near Sen'jin Village…and those damned trolls will eat her alive. Literally. Those bastards are cannibalistic monsters, and she won't stand a chance against them."

Feldion sighed, shaking his head as he begin to walk away, leaving the Draenei to his thoughts. "You have absolutely no faith whatsoever, Hullok. Until you find that you do have some, I'll leave you to your thoughts." Waving a hand, he ushered for his Nightsaber to follow him, stalking off to a more private area, keeping Hullok's words fresh in his mind. Cannibalistic savages, his ass. Sure, the trolls had a history of devouring those of their own race, but the tribe of the Darkspear, who were very much loyal to the Horde, had come a long way since then, as far as Feldion knew. He made a point to be knowledgeable of all the races of the Horde, knowing their mannerisms and lore, to have a better understanding of them. It often proved useful to proving Hullok wrong, but even then, he was still difficult to argue with. Even if he was right.

Secluded enough from the group, he plopped onto the ground, the Nightsaber curled up beside him as his gaze wandered to the stars. Orcs, trolls, undead…they were all part of life, a part of the Horde. Orcs were aggressive, and Undead abominations. Trolls were cannibalistic. Though Feldion knew that they had come a long way from where they were. But then again, they were also the reason Guljon grew up without a home.

Years ago, long before either of them had even thought about joining the Alliance troops, Guljon's father had been on a mission to Durotar, ending up near Sen'jin village. Minor details had escaped Feldion on what had actually happened, but when her father's party returned, without him, he couldn't help but to watch the on goings. Especially when he saw that two trolls had taken his place, a male and a female, both looking more distraught than angry, or even frightened. A crowd had soon gathered, and with his young friend, Guljon, they had pushed through adults thick and thin, to the very front, directly opposite of the trolls who had been forced to their knees.

The leader of the company, whose name had always escaped the young Night Elf, stood before the procession, staring gravely at the vermin before him, not even the slightest hint of pity upon his features. These trolls were murderers, and murderers had to be dealt with, in the swiftest way they could find. Feldion vaguely remembered the shouts of murder barked from the commander, followed by the name of Raleon, father of Guljon, murdered by trolls. Everything was a blur to Feldion, but in the trolls' last moment, the young, future hunter, had locked eyes with the woman, and he felt a twinge within his being at the expression on her face. Fear, sadness, and guilt poured from her, tears falling down skin of pale blue-green. In that instant, he knew that trolls weren't monsters. The Horde weren't monsters. They had lives and they had families. Jobs and loved ones. And by the expression on the woman's face, even as her severed head rolled to his feet, told him that he could learn to trust them.

_Dammit, _he thought, jaw clenched as the memories flooded over him. It wasn't one he was particularly fond of; Feldion had never liked executions, always avoiding them rather than attending them, as he never felt the need to watch another life end by the Alliance's hand. His Nightsaber, Luna, approached him slowly, rubbing her head against his hand, a deep purr rumbling in her chest. Giving her a glance, rather amused, despite his lack of expression, his mind wandered back to the memories, and back to a chain he had stolen from the woman's corpse. A necklace with three charms had been calling to him, and though he could not explain why, he always had the feeling that it would come in handy, one day. He wore it around his neck since, for reasons he could not explain, but for reasons he knew would one day present themselves to him.

"Well, girl," he said softly, resting his back against the trunk of a tree, sliding downward to sit upon the grass. The Nightsaber curled up beside him, resting her head upon his lap, purr still rumbling within her chest. "We'll find Guljon. I know we will."


	6. Avoiding Enemies

I know it's been a bit since I posted, but here's the latest chapter!

Also, I've been thinking about writing one-shots about a couple of characters. Like how a couple of them first meet or whatnot. I'd like your input!

Anyway, enjoy~

Rated M for mature content.

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"No one seems to be following us, so we're good to go…for now."

Argoz's gruff voice carried forward to Sazlek, whose pointed ear easily picked up his words. She had since transformed from a bat to an elk-like creature, leading along Lana through the marshy lands between Razor Hill and the Barrens. Getting her hooves wet was no big deal for the female, and would it be nice to rest her weary wings, but her primary reason for her change was the Night Elf, falling asleep on the raptor's back. Had it not been for Argoz, the woman would have fallen into the marsh, though his quick reflexes had caught her just in time. Deciding it would be best for one of them to watch over Guljon as she rested, Argoz took the first watch, keeping his worg next to the raptor, his eyes never leaving the woman as she slumbered on.

After a few hours, Sazlek had taken control, leaving the rogue to backtrack, checking for anyone who could have been upon their tail. Every now and again, he would fall behind for several meters, yellow eyes searching for any sign of enemy life…well, enemies for the Night Elf. Anyone in these parts was bound to want to kill her, and there was no way that either the troll or the orc would allow such a thing to befall the unlucky woman. She had already been through enough as it was, nearly suffering from dehydration, as well as the stab wound that Argoz had inflicted upon her.

"Oi, Argoz!" Yellow hues darted back to the woman before her, who had suddenly transformed back into her normal body, brows furrowed as she awaited his approach. Guljon was still snoozing on in her saddle, head lolling to the side as her mouth hung open, chest rising and falling with each gentle breath she took. Despite the position she sat in, he couldn't help but noticed how peaceful she looked, the slightest of smiles tugging at his lips. Digging his heels into the side of his worg to speed him up, the orc soon stood side-by-side with the two females, brows furrowed.

"What is it?" he grunted, still scanning the area for any sort of threat. "We can't just stop in the middle of everything because you have something to tell me. These are dangerous areas for an Elf like Guljon…we can't take any risks."

"I'm well aware," the troll replied, rolling crimson hues. They had barely been travelling a few hours when Sazlek had noticed something amiss about the marshy area that they tromped through. "Did ya notice dat da marsh seem ta be a bit…quiet…more so den usual?" Her pointed ear twitched at a nearly inaudible sound from the south, lip curving into a snarl, allowing her trollish form to shift into a brightly colored tiger, a growl rumbling her chest. As a feline, her senses were heightened, black nose twitching as an odor she recognized as Hellscream's men, met her.

"Argoz," she hissed, tufted ears lying flat against her skull, whipping her striped tail back and forth. "Take da Elf ta safety. Hellscream's soldiers be around here." The words slipped from her lips like deadly venom, the hiss of loathing eminent upon her voice. Hellscream was at the top of her list of disliked people, especially since he'd tried to murder Vol'jin, the leader of her tribe whom she was completely loyal to. Of course, as he continued making himself enemies of the entire Horde, the stronger the resistance became, and the more people joined Vol'jin's cause.

Of course, many of the orcs were still loyal to the monster that was called Warchief, though not the man that stood beside her, grabbing the reigns of the orange raptor and leading her away, careful to make sure that the Elf did not fall. However, as he kept her hidden in the brush, making Lana stand guard, the man jumped off his worg, drawing his daggers as his mouth curved into a feral grin, eyes sparkling dangerously as he approached the tigress, who nodded as she slunk into the shadows, her own eyes flashing in the direction of Hellscream's troops.

"Dis way…" she muttered, digging her claws into the ground beneath her paws. "I can smell dem. Nasty orc stench upon dem…it's not a wonder dat I found dem…"

"Tch…nasty orc stench," Argoz replied, rolling his eyes. "You make it sound like we all smell like that." A grunt escaped his throat as he prepared himself, glancing at Sazlek beside him. "Anyway, enough of that shit. Let's get going." It wasn't a moment later that the pair of them gave away their positions, each letting loose a war cry, surprising the unexpecting men as they each fumbled about with their weapons, struggling to fend off the tigress and the orc as their weapons tore into their flesh.

Sinking her claws into the nearest of the two, her tusks, which had significantly lengthened from her troll form, pierced the throat of the ferocious male she had encountered, blood spurting from his veins, staining Sazlek's cerulean fur. Growl emanating from her, her jaws latched around his neck, further opening his neck as her claws tore through his armor, easily ripping away the tough leather. Unaware as to what her partner was doing, she continued her fight against the orc, ears twitching as she tuned in to what Argoz was accomplishing with his foe.

The orc, quick and stealthy, continuously slashed at his own enemy, a warrior of great strength and cunning, though his speed was not up to par with the rogue. Argoz struggled to keep him at bay, fending off each blow with his own daggers, deflecting the blade from making contact with his skin. A bead of sweat dripped down his brow as he grimaced in frustration, unable to land a blow upon the man before him, narrowly avoiding a blade to his leg.

"Bastard," he bellowed, allowing his dagger to plunge into the warrior's neck, having seen the perfect opportunity to strike. "Like hell you're going to defeat me….over my dead body will I allow you to live." Warm blood seeped over his fingers as he continued to dig the blade deeper and deeper into his neck, a low growl rumbling in his chest…until he felt the blade of the warrior's sword cut through his leather armor, slicing through his skin, leaving a large wound upon Argoz' ribs. A groan escaped him, swinging his other blade through a weakness in the man's chest plate, causing the man to stagger back, falling to the ground while Argoz remained on his feet, hand clutching the bleeding gash upon him.

Heart pounding with ferocity, his yellow eyes turned to Sazlek, who although was covered in blood, remained relatively unscathed. The tigress turned her crimson orbs onto the orc, rushing forward as she spied the blood oozing from his side. "Dammit," she breathed, allowing his weight to lean against her form, lip curled in a snarl. "Ya're not supposed ta get yerself hurt, mon. Dat's gonna just slow us down."

"Shut up, Sazlek," he grunted, sweat dripping from his brow. "Just fuckin' get me to where I hid the girl. We'll worry about me when we get there."

"It be a good ting she not far off," she replied, quickening her pace. "Yer better den dat, mon. Not'ing can hurt ya, and ya let this puny orc get ta ya. Fer god's sake, mon!"

"Sazlek. One last time. Shut the fuck up. Just…nng." He breathed a short breath groaning in agony as the wound seemed to get worse. His sight flickered, falling upon the area where he had safely hidden the sleeping Guljon, who was no longer dozing. From just above the brush, he could see her glowing silver eyes, wide and scared, watching as her two rescuers approached, both bloodied and bruised from the recent tussle. She made to reach them, but Sazlek loosed a warning roar, stopping the woman dead in her tracks. Should the Night Elf leave her spot, she could be easily found, and that would end the journey very quickly.

"What happened?!" she exclaimed as the tigress approached, setting the male down beside her. He pushed her off, glaring at Sazlek as she turned back into a troll, beginning to wipe the blood off of her.

"Nothing, nothing," he grunted, waving the frantic Elf away, rolling his eyes. "Just got into a bit of a scrap. Nothing to be worried about. Just—hey, what the fuck are you doing, Elf?" Looking at the woman in surprise as her fingers began to work at the straps of his leather chest piece, his hand rested upon her shoulder, pushing her back to get her away. "Stop that, girl! I'm fine!"

"Oh, _obviously_," she replied, voice dripping in sarcasm as she pushed away his hand. "Completely fine…that's exactly why you're bleeding from your side, all over the place. Just a scratch, right? No need for immediate attention. Something you can shrug right off!" She rolled her eyes, working once more at his armor, much to his displeasure.

"Dammit, Argoz," Sazlek said, gripping his arms to keep him from pushing Guljon away again. "Ya need ta be looked at, or yer gonna be worse off den ya are now!"

"I'm fine, Sazlek, Guljon, so shove off!" Orbs of both silver and crimson shot him an angry glare, silencing him instantly at the ferocity of both of the women. Perhaps it would be the better idea to keep himself quiet.

"There, is that so hard, Grimfist?" Guljon asked coolly, raising a slender eyebrow smugly. Slipping her slender fingers through the laces on the side of his armor, keeping her eyes locked upon his yellow hues. He looked away, refusing to return her gaze as the armor fell away, his torn and bloody shirt underneath still keeping her eyes from his wound. "You know, this needs to come off as well…to be able to see it properly and know what I need to do to heal it."

"No," he replied firmly. "You're weak enough as it is…because of _me. _The last thing you need to do is heal the guy that hurt ya." Her hand reached for his face, turning it so that she could look into her eyes, sighing as she shook her head, a soft chuckle escaping her lips.

"Forgiveness is something everyone should know. I can forgive, and I can forget. Now, quit twitching and let me heal you."

Her hand upon his face had quite surprised the orc, but her gentle touch was enough to soothe his pain and calm the situation. His expression softening, he sighed in defeat, nodding his head. "Fine. You want me to take this shirt off, right? It'd be helpful if Sazlek would let go of my arms, y'know." Staring pointedly at the troll, she released him, brows furrowing as she watched the pair of them closely, the slightest glimmer of amusement in her eyes at the interaction between the orc and Night Elf. She knew Argoz' taste in women, and it seemed to be eminent with the woman before him.

Clearing his throat loudly, glaring at the troll beside him as her smirk widened, his shirt slipped off, feeling slender fingers upon his ribs, tracing along the gash upon his chest. She tilted her head to the side, brows furrowing as she concentrated upon the wound. "It's deep," she said softly, hands beginning to glow in healing magic. "It shouldn't take too much power to heal, however. So don't worry about taking my strength from me…I'm a very skilled healer…Argoz." She smiled as he looked at her, noting as she called him by his first name. Something he hadn't expected, but he returned her smile nonetheless.

"Alright then," he grunted, watching closely as her eyes returned his chest, magic covering the open wound knitting the broken flesh together as it healed, bleeding ceasing as the gash slowly disappeared. "Don't use too much of your energy though…I'm not really that worth it."

"Shut the hell up," she replied, a bead of sweat trickling down her brow. "I've got this. It's not difficult in the slightest." Though Argoz could tell she was an adept healer, the wound on her back still had taken much of her strength, and healing him was taking more energy than she had to expend.

"Guljon-" he said wearily, dark brows furrowing. "You should probably stop. I'll heal the rest myself."

"No. I can do this. I-" She blinked, raising her brows as she seemed to lose concentration, hands becoming shaky above the wound, which was nearly healed. Her violet features paled, breathing becoming labored as it continued to stitch up, and suddenly she gave out, falling forward as she finished her job, Argoz catching the slender female before she fell. A drip of blood slipped from her nostril, energy completely depleted after he had healed.

"I told you, stupid Elf," he said softly, lifting her as he wiped the blood from her face. "You're not strong enough, not yet. You should have fully healed first before trying this. I'm sure Sazlek could've done something about it." He glanced at the troll, who nodded, shrugging her shoulders.

"I have some healing powers," she said, glancing at the tired Elf. "It may not be ma specialization, but I have no problem wit it. Not ta mention, I'm a bit healthier den ya are, Guljon."

Blatantly ignoring Sazlek's words, she allowed herself to collapse upon Argoz, surprising the orc, the green of his cheeks flushing into a darker emerald as her head lolled against his shoulder. Looking at Sazlek helplessly, she just chuckled, shaking her head as she heard soft snores escape Guljon's lips leaving Argoz rather confused.

"Dammit, Sazlek, get the woman off of me. She needs to rest, but not here!"

"She seem ta like where she be, mon. I'm not about ta move her. Yer just gonna have to be stuck wit her."

"You bitch," he grumbled, arranging the woman into a more comfortable position, leaning back against the boulder he currently sat against, sighing heavily. "I'm gonna kick your ass, you know. Fuck if you're a woman or not, I'm gonna kick your ass to Outland and back."

"I look forward ta it, Argoz," she responded, folding her arms across her chest. "We'll rest here for a bit before we move on. She's obviously not gonna me movin' anytime soon. So git comfortable." Rising to her feet, she stretched her arms and back, stalking off as she transformed into a tiger once more.

"I'll be right back, mon. Gonna get someting fer us ta eat. Have fun wit da Elfie."


	7. Sorlok's Return

Uh wow, this took forever to upload. I apologize for the wait, but my writing muse had disappeared for a while. I'm still not too sure about this chapter either. Hopefully my writing gets back to normal soon. ^^;

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Anger was etched into the lines of Garluz' face as he cleaned dried blood off of the end of his staff. Sazlek was gone, and it was highly likely that the female was not about to return to her home. He was an idiot for letting her leave; he should have stopped her at all costs. There was not reason that the woman had to leave, especially when they both knew that she hadn't carried off the troll children in the dead of night. Since Sorlok's absence, the mage had taken to staying the night in Sazlek's hut, watching over her as she slept, though he knew she was quite capable of taking care of herself, he couldn't help but feel a tad protective of her.

He was a few years older than Sazlek and her twin, and while they had lived without parents for a good part of their young lives, Garluz felt as though the responsibility to watch over them was his. He hadn't minded the arrangement; he was always rather fond of them, and though it never escalated to more than a sibling bond, Garluz was quite content with his lot in life. Hell, if it hadn't been for them, he would have never met Vandina, a Blood Elf paladin that he'd taken an instant liking to. Of course, her best friend, an undead hunter named Seliah, was also someone he was rather fond of, but there was something about the Blood Elf that had drawn him in from the get-go.

Crimson orbs flashing upward, he could see the silhouette of three women, all clearly of different races, quickly approaching the small village, a smile lighting up the man's features. The figure in the middle, and the tallest of the three, was no doubt Sorlok, the priestess sister of Sazlek. On either side of her was a shorter, yet feminine figure, though it took a bit of squinting to find out which woman was which. As they approached, it was clear that the woman on the right was much thinner and bonier than the other, obviously Seliah, as her skeletal walk became more pronounced. On the left, moving much more gracefully than the other two, shining in her plate armor, was Vandina, pale features pinkened as the Durotar sun heated up the metal that her thin frame was bound in. He was very aware that both Elf and Undead were used to the cooler temperatures of Tirisfal Glades and the Eversong Forest. Gathering up waterskins from the hut, he readied them so the women wouldn't faint from the sheer heat.

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"You know, you forget how hot Durotar really is when you've been in the Ghostlands for so long," Seliah commented, rubbing her hand against her ghostly pale forehead. "I'm surprised what flesh left on my bones hasn't started to melt yet." Though the state of her Undead condition had always been one of Seliah's major shames, it always did her well to make fun of her own race once in a while. Though, she was rather odd, in comparison to other Undead; where as they were born from the dead bodies of human soldiers, Seliah had somehow received a second chance at life, after being killed viciously as a Blood Elf so long ago. Of course, that had also brought much pain in her life, but she felt as though she was a better person for who she was now.

"You may be undead," Vandina replied, equally hot, "but that doesn't mean your flesh and skin will start rotting. Pretty sure Sylvanas took some precautions before ruling her race of undead creatures. Hell, if I was her, I would do everything I could to make sure this heat didn't rot away my people."

"Likely," piped Sorlok, her gaze focused upon the village before her. With the upcoming siege of the capital city, troll forces were gathering in Sen'jin, preparing for the battle to come. Though she was not yet needed on the field, nor Garluz for that matter, she just couldn't help but feel the slightest bit of trepidation settle in the pit of her stomach. "I'm not sure what kind of undead powers da Banshee Queen be havin', but dey prolly guard ya from da elements."

Rolling her skeletal shoulders, Seliah heaved a shrug, her pale features flushing slightly. She had been taken with Sorlok ever since Vandina had introduced the pair, the Blood Elf priding herself on her abilities at match-making. Seliah was a woman filled with love, for men and women alike, though her passed had been one of heartbreak and anguish. Vandina was very aware of this, and had done her best to make her dear friend happy, though more times than not, Seliah's loneliness got the better of her. Of course, as Sorlok came along, an idea had formed in the blonde's head, feeling that a certain bond between troll and Undead was achievable. And from what she observed, from the small interactions of Seliah and Sorlok, she was correct.

Sidestepping as a towering headhunter nearly trampled her, Vandina's gaze wandered around Sen'jin as they entered the village, never having seen such a group of trolls congregated in one area. "Hm, looks like Vol'jin's got the place ready for the Siege," she mused, eyes glowing in excitement. There were many reasons to hate the current Warchief, and the fact that the leaders of each individual races had picked up on it was enough to get her blood stirring. There were still a few things she had to do before being able to take her place at the front lines, but she would happily do so in a heartbeat to overthrow the monstrous tyrant named Hellscream.

"Aye, he does," a voice, thick with a trollish accent, said, capturing the attention of the three women with ease. Lopsided grin settling across his features, Garluz approached them, tossing a waterskin at Sorlok to relieve her thirst. "I don' tink he's had a moment's rest since he started dis revolution." He shrugged, quirking an eyebrow at the females as he trailed a finger along the edge of his tusk. "Anyway, nice ta be seein' ya girls again. It's been a bit too long, if ya ask me. How ya been doin'?"

"Business as usual," Sorlok replied, handing off the water skin to Seliah as she had quenched her thirst. "Trainin' da younger priests…spyin' on Hellscream and his men. Ya know, da good stuff. Can't wait until dis be all over."

Grin turning into a frown, Garluz made a disapproving grunt in the back of his throat, rolling his eyes heavily at her words. "I wasn't asking ya, Sorlok. I know how ya've been. I'm talkin' 'bout da _pretty_ ladies…not yer troll ass." Wicked smirk lifting his lips once again, he pushed passed the disgruntled woman, wedging himself between the two petite females, placing an arm around each of them. "C'mon, tell me how ya've been! No borin' siege stories, either. I've heard enough of those ta last a lifetime, mon. Somthing exciting, please."

"Nothing really exciting to say," Vandina said, shrugging her shoulders. "Well, I suppose this Blood Elf was hitting on Seliah when we were in Orgrimmar the other day….that was quite the sight to see. Never seen her more flustered in her life."

"Ah, enough about that," Seliah replied, scratching the back of her head in embarrassment. "That was nothing. Nothing was gonna happen. Just some asshole trying to make me feel like I was actually worth something. Only to tell me it was all a joke. Okay? Okay. I'm undead. We're hardly deemed 'beautiful,' and isn't that what you Elves are usually about?"

"Shut up," Vandina said, rolling her eyes. "I've known that guy for a while; I can let you know that he was definitely interested."

"Well," the undead said, clearing her throat before side-glancing at Sorlok. "I'm not. And it doesn't really matter, because I doubt I'll be crossing his path once again."

"Uh, dat's not exactly what I was hopin' ta hear, ya know," Garluz interrupted, rolling his eyes, rubbing the back of his head with a large hand. "Relationship issues aren't my area of expertise. Or even interest."

"Right," Seliah said, heaving a sigh. "So onto something different, yeah? Anyway, Vandina and I have been in Silvermoon for most of the time, resting up before we came back to Kalimdor. Nothing too exciting, really."

"Heh, da both of ya are really a bag full of stories, aren't ya?" Garluz said, half lidded eyes staring between the two women, stifling a yawn. "Maybe I shoulda asked Sorlok, den." Turning his head to glance over his shoulder at the other troll, who's features were contorted in a grimace as she brushed desert sand from her armor.

"Dere's really nothin' ta say," she said, huffing as she folded her arms across her chest. "I just needed ta drop off some armor fer Sazlek. Where she be, mon? I need ta speak ta her."

Almost immediately, the laughter from Garluz' face dropped, becoming serious at the mention of the other woman's name. "She's not here. She left. Apparently, dere be someting killing da children. A cat of some sorts…a druid. Like Sazlek."

The three women's features, almost in perfect synchronization, were each replaced with an expression of utmost surprise. Having known Sazlek for as long as they did, it came as an unbelievable fact that Garluz had said. As far as they had ever known, she would have never killed a child, or dragged one away from its home, at the very least. She was quite fond of children, and to even contemplate harming one would be quite beyond her capacity.

"You sure they have the right troll, Garluz?" Vandina asked, blonde brows furrowing as his words confused her. "She's not really the type, y'know. Like, I know she's a druid, but did they really get a good look at what took the kid, or did they just pin it on her to make it easier for them?"

"I dunno, Elfie," Garluz replied with a shrug of his massive shoulders. Lips curved into a deeper frown as the topic blossomed in their conversation. "Dey tink she be lyin' wit a woman as well, but we all know dat it's Sorlok dat likes da pussy."

Clearing her throat loudly, her hand curled into a fist, burying it into the male's chest, causing a low grunt to escape his lips. "Ow, watcha do dat for, Sorlok? Ya know it be da truth. Dat hurt." Massaging the area she had damaged, he brushed passed her, crimson eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of Sorlok's twin.

"Be dat as it may, dat's not what be important right now, ya know. We gotta find her and bring her back. She be ma sister."

"Sorlok…" Seliah chimed, glowing yellow eyes meeting the troll's. "Sazlek is completely capable of taking care of herself. She doesn't need to be found and brought back. Hell, she's the eldest of the pair of you; if anything, it's her that should be going after you."

The priestess' features soften as they turned upon the undead, a small smile touching her supple lips. "Ya be right, Seliah," she said, running a hand through her wild hair. "But she still be ma sister. And I'm gonna prove ta dese people dat my sister didn't do dis." Glancing at Garluz for a moment, she raised an eyebrow, clearing her throat loudly. "Get yer shit togeder, Garluz. We be leavin' now. Ya have any idea where she coulda gone?"

Grimacing, he shook his head, clearly not amused by her statement. "No idea, but I s'pose yer not gonna leave me alone 'til we find her, eh? Lemme git my armor; I'll be ready in a sec. Dunno why yer so adamant 'bout it, but I'll help ya. Yer both like sisters ta me, so might as well."

Watching him disappear for a moment, Vandina folded her arms over her chest, brows still furrowed as her glowing emerald eyes traveled to Sorlok. "Are you sure you want to do this? Knowing her, she's probably on some odd quest that brings her dangerously close to Alliance territory. Is this really a good idea? Don't you have some sort of magic that'll show her location to you?"

"I don't expect ya ta understand, Vandina," she said shortly, leaning heavily upon Seliah's shoulder, who's ghostly features flushed a sickly green. "Ya don' have a twin, like I do."

"You're right, but I do have a brother, y'know. And he'd flip shit knowing the sort of company that I hang out with. And the damned adventure that we're about to go on? Shit...he'd have my head on a pole."

"Well, seeing as he's not a fan of anyone that's not an Elf, I can imagine so," Seliah added, voice higher than usual as the troll woman continued to lean against her frail frame. Though it wasn't much longer before Garluz returned, reigns of an emerald raptor clutched in his fist, a pack slung across the creature's back.

"Alright, let's get goin' den," he said shortly, swinging a leg over the raptor's back, pulling himself upon the saddle. Following suit, Sorlok mounted her own violet raptor, pulling the undead hunter upon the creature with her, as Vandina clambered up behind Garluz, wrapping her arms around his waist, as neither she nor Seliah had their own mounts in Kalimdor. Snapping the reigns, Garluz led the way our of Sen'jin, beginning their journey to return Sazlek back to their home to prove her innocence to the rest of the trolls.


End file.
